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Because in food I trust. In all forms and shapes. 

Picnic in the snow

Picnic in the snow

In all the world
There’s nothing like
The sound of falling snow –

The only noise
I’ve ever known
That makes the clocks move slow.

The only sound
That sweeps away
The din of city streets,

And wraps around,
In soft embrace,
’Most everyone it meets.

A sound that’s not
A sound at all –
A quiet, soft and dear,

That comforts all
The sleepy souls
Who sit, and watch, and hear.

By Barbara Vance, book "Suzie Bitner was afraid of the Drain"

As always, I woke up first. I opened the curtains and there it was - snow. White and sparkling, I almost felt it's cold in my hand. Sitting in my bed, I could feel the crispy weather outside.  Finally, there was cold, snow and THE SUN (gone too long, that I already don' t remember the last time I saw it). And I knew we will go for a hike and picnic. I made sourdough sandwiches, I had cake in the fridge, I made some linden tea and we were off. 5 km up and down the hills of Sigulda, picnic in the snow, and 2 more km up the hill was enough for us to feel happy. The cheeks were burning red, someone was sleeping in the car, and the life was beautiful again. 

Text and pictures: Signe Meirane
Camera: Sony Alpha 7s

Inspired by the dress

Inspired by the dress

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time...